


By the Red Sun’s Light

by Mystic_of_the_West



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Blood, F/F, OC Perspective, dead jasper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_of_the_West/pseuds/Mystic_of_the_West
Summary: The air was thick and heavy. I could feel my lungs filling up with an invisible thick cloud. The world was blanketed in darkness. I was being suffocated from the inside out. I pleaded for air but the only sounds were a gasp a gurgle, a choke. My mouth was affronted with the metallic taste of blood. Blood the mere thought sent a primal hunger through me. Blood a ravenous call breaks through my parched throat. Blood the word echoes through my being like a desert in a rain storm. I can even hear the hiss of satisfaction as the liquid hits the parched ground. Blood. My future calls. Blood…
Relationships: Original Character/Alice Cullen
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Blood

The air was thick and heavy. I could feel my lungs filling up with an invisible thick cloud. The world was blanketed in darkness. I was being suffocated from the inside out. I pleaded for air but the only sounds were a gasp a gurgle, a choke. My mouth was affronted with the metallic taste of blood. Blood the mere thought sent a primal hunger through me. Blood a ravenous call breaks through my parched throat. Blood the word echoes through my being like a desert in a rain storm. I can even hear the hiss of satisfaction as the liquid hits the parched ground. Blood. My future calls. Blood…

“Hazel, What are you doing?”

I start. A shockwave goes up my body.

“Blood?” I say with a question in my voice.

My mother rolls her burgundy eyes.

“It is supper time. I have been calling you for awhile. Where did you get that black cloak from?”

I look down at the aforementioned cloak that seems to be made out of black wool. I shrug, not really sure, where I got it.

“What are we having?” I ask.

“Whatever I made…”

“Sausages then,” I say with a bored voice.

“Sausages,” my mother says with a smirk.

“Right, sausages are just as boring as this town,” I grumble.

“Your eyes are red,” my mother says.

I look at myself in the ebony hallway mirror and I can see that my mother is right. My eyes are as red as the sun’s light.

I look at are ebony table with white china plates and a serving of blood sausage. My stomach grumbles and the doorbell rings. The Cullens have arrived.


	2. Forks and Knives

It is obvious that the the Cullens are vampires. I can see right through their eerie stares. I feel the creature inside of me rise up as if it is a great wave and I am just a mere cliff amidst its roaring onslaught.

I want to growl a growl that is fuelled by protectiveness over my mother. I can see though that she is oblivious to our so called guests. Approaching them with open arms as if she wants to embrace the tall blond one and recoil and the same time.

My stomach grumbles for the blood sausage the primal metallic taste fills my nose, I can hear it’s call. I near the plate I can feel my moist tongue lick my dry lips in anticipation.

I hear the murmurs around me and I can feel their gazing boring into my back with judgement…I don’t care let them judge let them look at this impetuous human if that is what I can be called.

“Hazel,” I hear my mother sigh. “Where are your manners?” she asks.

I gaze up at her, I can feel my moist lips that are tinted red turn up into a smirk, “Right here,” I say, “I am using a knife and fork.”

I hear a deep snort from behind me. I don’t turn around, I am nobody’s muse. I will never be like them. I do not know what I will be but I will never be like them. I think with rising rage, for I am nobody and nothing.

“We have guests,” my mother bites out.

“Do we?” I reply, “Or our they just here to see the new freak of the town. The one with hungry red eyes yet, whose skin is warm to the touch,” I say with a heated whisper.

I take a small glimpse at ‘our guests,’ they are forgetting who they are. They did not even wait at the doorstep. All real vampires wait at the doorstep before being invited in. These vampires are existing in a world that is not made for them. Instead of living in a world that is of their own creation.

“They probably live in a modern style house just like everybody else. There is no care anymore for what is ancient and old,” I mutter as I walk the creaky yellow stained velvet carpet on the stairs.

In this dreary town the only thing I like about this place is our house, a stone house, whose walls and rooms envelop me when the world becomes overwhelming, when sight and smells become a plague to my nose. Ever since I came here there has been a lingering scent, a scent that beckons. Right now, it is invading my nose, ‘LEAVE’, I hear my body scream.

The last thing I hear my mother say is, “I apologize for my daughter’s behaviour she has not been well.”

I roll my eyes as I strut to my room, “Well…never been better,” I mutter to the window overlooking the lonely meadow outside.

I am overcome with feelings of loneliness and yet no tears fall.

~

Alice is aching inside. Two nights ago she lost her mate – Jasper. ‘In a stupid fight against James and Victoria, all because of Bella.’

Alice is or was usually a pixie like character. She liked to laugh and create. There was nothing more satisfying then putting an outfit together, she remembers, _being in her bedroom and pulling everything out of her closet. She could feel that she was being watched. She turns around and sees a beautiful Jasper with his blond curls and a fond smile on his face watching her. She simply looked at him with her golden eyes alight and said…, “_ I can’t decide,’ she murmurs in the kitchen. Esme puts the knife down that was chopping red peppers. She embraces her daughter saying, “You don’t have to decide Alice, not right now.”

“But my vision,” Alice whines.

“You know as well as anyone that your visions are not objective Alice,” Carlisle interjects.

Alice solemnly nods and sniffs.

“I wish I could cry,” she says, in a heart breaking whisper.

“I don’t…” Emmett states. “I am happy that I can’t cry because I fear that I would be crying for years. Jasper was my brother and every breath that I take aches. I hate Bella and what she did to our family. And more than anything I hate Edward for being happy. He gets his girl, while we get…”

“Emmett stop!” Rosalie exclaims.

“Jasper is dead. He was also dead before he was killed. Jasper was miserable before, he is free now. He always wanted to be free. He hated being a vampire and being an empath. You know this more than anyone Alice. He is free now. As we speak he is probably riding horses or just sitting under a tree with a straw of hay in his mouth and a signature smirk on his face. We are the ones with the cursed life. He is not!” Rosalie emphatically explains.

Alice is too numb to respond to her sister’s passionate tirade. She feels more frozen then ever.

Carlisle intently looks at Rosalie with a proud smile on his face before Esme interrupts, “We have to go!”

“Where?” Emmett asks.

“To see my sister,” Carlisle states with a deep sigh.

“Your sister?” Rosalie questions.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Alice says.

“No, you didn’t, Edward does and Jasper did. I had to leave her after I changed Edward and Esme, Jasper joined us. We had a disagreement and have not spoken to each other since. She has a daughter, who is part vampire…” Carlisle calmly reveals.

“How is that possible!” Emmett gasps.

“I don’t know we will see tonight,” Carlisle sighs.

“What is it?” Esme asks.

“Marsella, said that her daughter is experiencing certain behaviours. She is not like us…,” Carlisle starts to say.

“Nobody is like us,” Rosalie scoffs.

Alice gets in the green Jeep sitting quietly in the back. Ignoring the pulling sensation inside of her as if a part of her cold soul is being ripped in half. While Esme and Carlisle drive in the silver BMW.

After a fifteen minute drive they arrive at a small stone colonial style house, where there are tendrils of mist wafting over the wooden entrance gate.

They knock on the large dark door that is only being lit by one cast iron lamp. The door opens…revealing a tall woman with long light brown hair and a slender nose, that matches Carlisle’s, it is quite obvious that they are related.

“Sister,” Carlisle greets as he wipes his shoes and enters the dim lighted entrance with a cast iron chandelier overhead that is lit by flickering candles.

Emmett has the urge to do a shadow puppet demonstration.

Rosalie looks into the ebony mirror in the hallway, that shows their reflections.

“Brother,” she greets.

“It has been a while,” Carlisle says.

“So it has…” Marsella sighs, before she walks into the other room.

Alice’s nose is affronted with a complex scent it smells like a combination of cinnamon and mildew, and something underneath that is sweet. She hides a smile when she sees Emmett walking on the old carpet and clouds of dust follow after him.

‘This is an unusual house,’ she internally muses.

A dull voice interrupts her thoughts of amusement.

“…Fork and knife,” before a girl with aristocratic features walks by. Alice cannot get a good look before Marsella returns and guides the Cullen’s into the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of an emotional chapter, from my visiting muse.  
> I chose to have Jasper die in this story, even though he is my favourite character in the canon story. His death is important for the development of these characters.  
> I know this story I said this story is OC centric, however, Alice wanted to visit.  
> Feel free to let me know what you think about the story so far.
> 
> Writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic-of-the-West


	3. Murmuring

From the floor above I can hear the murmuring below. I can feel their exclamations of surprise and judgement. They are probably admonishing my father who died of bad blood. He was a mortal after all. Even though he did have vampire heritage he could not escape the grips of mortality and the welcoming hands of death.

A part of me yearns death. I do not know if I am immortal or not…it seems strange to me if I was. I am from a diluted bloodline. My mother says that I age slow in body and mind. That is why I am of a short height or, “Maybe the world is really big,” I murmur in my dark room as I sit on my plush bed.

The best part of my room is my bed. I can escape into worlds of colour whenever I wish. Here in Forks the land and air feel so damp and wet. My socks are always wet, or maybe it is my shoes with holes in them.

I hate many things in this life, the biggest one being change. It is exhausting hating change really. Change is this big monster that chases after me and no matter how fast or hard I run it is inevitable that I will get caught and be suffocated in its sharp claws that hold me as I experience a metamorphosis.

If only I could bite change and make change no longer exist with my venom, “Is that even possible?” I murmur, as I look at my open closet holding my clothes. Wishing that I had venom.

When I was little I remember hiding in my closet and fearing to reveal myself from the shadows it was always dark in my closet. I liked that. I like the dark. That is the best part about Forks, “It’s dark,” I murmur to my open window.

A part of me is intrigued about the heated conversation going on downstairs. It would be stupid though to try and sneak up on a coven of vampires. They probably have super hearing like my mother.

I know the story anyway. My mother told me. I considered it a bed time story once, a comforting cold bedtime story that embraced me like a cold, comforting winter wind.

I have always been fascinated by death. The great unknown. A cosmic forest, that beckons. All of life has to visit the forest of death at some point. I know my father visited it or is visiting it. My mother told me about the story after the First World War in Europe she was helping her brother heal. Her brother decided to turn a boy of seventeen who was dying of the Spanish Influenza. They travelled together for a time before moving to America.

In Texas they met a vampire who was fleeing from a path of bloodshed. He was also an empath. I would have liked to met him. We have something in common. We are both empaths. An exhausting gift really. My tidal emotions are already washing over me when I step outside, it is as if I am being drowned by others. Did he feel like that? Jasper I think was his name.

Anyway my mother with her brother, a newborn named Edward and a newborn named Jasper made their way across the country. Somehow they ended up in Ohio and my mother was helping to treat a sick baby. Who eventually died. I do not know if a dying baby is tragic or not. On the one hand it is a life that never got to live. On the other hand it is a life that was saved from this miserable world. A life that never got to experience hate or pain. Contrarily, a life that never got to experience love.

It was probably more painful for the mother. She carried this life within her for nine months and nurtured it and cared for it. Death comes in and takes the cherished life from her who was in part an extension of herself.

“I wonder if the baby is still in the dark forest, or is it somewhere else. Where are you baby?” I murmur, to the specks of light peaking above the soaring mists of clouds.

Anyway, back to the story. After my mother’s brother turned the mourning mother into a vampire. I will back up, the mourning mother tried to kill herself and was dying from her injuries. He (my mother never speaks of her brother’s name,) anyway, he turned her. My mother did not like this at all.

She told me that they would argue all the time over the stupidest things. She said that even though she has an eternal life she does not want to spend it with them. So they parted ways and my mother returned to Europe.

This is where things change, become spooky. My uncle I suppose is a full vampire. He got turned the traditional way. However, my mother got cursed. She was only a full vampire if she did not find a mate and fell in love. When her and her brother were bitten, she experienced an untraditional reaction lets call it.

When she was without her brother she felt weaker. She also had a hunger for human blood. This was in the 1930’s the Second World War was starting. She chose to become a nurse. She was healing a very charming soldier and they eventually fell in love. She told me that her blood sung to him. She fell in love with his blood. She could hear the liquid life flowing through him when he laughed. She could hear it roar like a rapidly flowing river when he got angry. One day, she had a yearning to taste it. She did and she could not stop feasting. She drained him. She did not want him to wake up in a cursed life so she burned him and vowed to herself to never let her heart be alight. Something happened though when she mated with him. She lost a part of herself her skin was becoming warm to the touch. She would lose certain stereotypical vampire characteristics every time she laid with a mortal. It seemed like small observations at first, until her eyes changed colour and she could eat ‘normal,’ food. These were insignificant to her because...

One day, fourteen years ago her womb awoke. She experienced a monthly flow from within her. She told me about it because well at that time, she met her true mate, whose blood did not sing to her. She told me that my father awoke her and breathed life into her as if she was waking up from a deep sleep. She did not thirst or hunger for him. She was in the northern part of Europe at this time living amongst reindeer. She told me that I was conceived under the flowing ethereal lights of the northern lights. That is why my middle name is Aurora.

My father had a secret though. He had vampire heritage. Now what that means is that his coven had certain power survival instincts to keep the lineage continuing. Under certain circumstances his coven’s male vampire sperm becomes alive for a lack of a better word and he experienced some sort of heat. On that night well, both of my parents were in heat I guess.

That is how I became the freak I am. I do not know if it is spooky. I guess the idea of me being with a man is spooky. I do not like men nor do I like the idea of being in a relationship. “I am fourteen years old for Dracula’s sake!” I harshly whisper to the open hallway.

I am being pulled to where…”I don’t know,” I hear myself murmur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a little bit of a background chapter with a back story. 
> 
> It has been a while since I read the Twilight books but I have always had a fascination with vampires. I know that Stephanie Meyers played with a few vampire characteristics like the Cullens having reflections. Instead of the traditional idea that vampires do not have reflections. I thought if she could play with certain characteristics why can’t I? 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to tell me what you think about my diluted bloodlines theory or erm what you think of the story so far. 
> 
> With love for words, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	4. Introductions

I follow this pulling sensation as if I am attached to an invisible tether and I have no control no will power to fight against my cosmic opponent. I hate this. I hate this moment. I hate having no control. I shuffle my feet on the stairs, one step at a time. One time when I was little I watched the movie _Sleeping Beauty,_ which is a horror movie for children by the way, about a demon that hypnotizes a princess, not an evil fairie, a demon! 

Well funnily enough I feel like Aurora right now following the hypnotizing green light. Although there is no light, it is dark, I am floating in darkness. There is no other matter except for me and the invisible leash.

A leash? Yes. ‘How much is the vampire dog in the window?’ I ask myself as I laugh mockingly to myself. A vampire dog, I snicker to myself but it sounds so far away. I am floating in dark space. Is this dark matter? I question to myself. Is this the source of creativity in the universe?

I am floating in dark matter! I feel a trill of excitement enter my being. As if there is a fluttering bird in the centre of my hollow self. Because that is what I feel, I feel hollow just air and space. No soul, my soul is dead. Or I want it to be dead.

I hate this. I hate being pulled and trusting in a silent infinite as if this all knowing energy knows where to take me. The world is full of contradictions because it is also very calming here. It is as if I am being introduced to a new part of myself, a primal part.

I feel my fingers trace along the doorway that enters the living room where I can sense the living dead through my blurry vision. Their well disguised grief is flooding the room as if it is the sweet smell of a festering wound.

I grip the white door frame breathless. I feel my mother’s calm. That is what is nice about my mother and why she is worth it to keep around, because she knows how to keep me calm. She runs her fingers through my shoulder length blond hair.

Yes, I am blond. A blond that is almost a light brown like sand on a beach. Did you know that particles of sand is actually poop from a fish? Yes, a parrot fish to be exact. A fish that eats coral and then the coral turns into sand. The things that I learn as I sit and wait to see if I am immortal or not. I know I am not. I am ready to greet death though as if it as an old friend like the stars in the sky or the sacred moon.

I look up at my mother. Her burgundy eyes are shining with love, I can’t…I can’t leave her. Guilt and shame pool my conscious. I am a selfish vampire bitch, for thinking I can leave my mother. I can’t…I find myself embracing her tall form as I nuzzle into her sweet floral scent that sings to my nose.

I swear my nostrils are serenading her red shirt right now. I feel her plant a light kiss on the crown of my head as if she is planting a seed of courage within me. Me and courage. I am just as cowardly as the lion in the _Wizard of Oz._

A loud clearing of a throat interrupts my calming thoughts like shattering glass on a hard floor. I feel my body involuntarily jump with surprise and I stutter a sound. “Hazel,” my mother gently says. I almost weep at the warmth and love in her voice.

“I would like to introduce you to someone who I told you about long ago, this is my brother Carlisle and his family,” my mother introduces.

I don’t like making eye contact with people it is too much. I am afraid of what I will glimpse in their eyes and I fear what they will see in mine as if all of my deepest darkest secrets are before them. Meeting new people is nerve wracking, meeting a coven of vampires…well it is not that bad I think, as my eyes focus on the female with the short brown hair in the group.

I have never seen someone so beautiful. Her skin is as smooth as alabaster and her eyes are golden. Her lips are enticing to look at, a part of me wishes that she will say something so I can see them move. There is a trill in me from my inner caged bird. I place my hands on my stomach to stop the fluttering, that does not abate. It is not her demon fairie looks that entice me though, it is her raw sadness, that is deep and fresh and still weeping fluid. If only I could lessen it like a cold cloth. How can a vampire feel so much? I wonder with a hidden fascination, well I hope it is hidden.

I start again when a smooth voice calls to me as if I am a tortoise hiding in my shell. “Hello Hazel, my name is Carlisle Cullen and the woman beside me is my mate Esme and these are our adopted children, we like to call them.”

“Do you have names or does your daddy introduce you himself?” I bite out with frustration.

I don’t like this, why can’t they just say what they are. They are not children far from they have been existing for a lot longer than a natural lifespan. ‘Adopted children, bullshit,’ I think. 

The other male in the group barks out a loud laugh, I want to cover my ears against the onslaught of the barbaric noise. He is not a dog, after all.

“I like you, cousin, I am Emmett,” he greets as he extends his hand for a cold handshake.

I roll my eyes as he widens his eyes in wonder at my warm skin.

“Hazel, and I do not know you enough to tell you if I like you or not,” I say honestly.

I hear my mother mutter her displeasure.

I shrug with indifference, she raised me to be myself, this is myself. Cold, warm, and internally lost in a dark spiral.

The next person to introduce herself is a beautifully stunning woman, with long strands of shining blond hair. She is wafting an air coldness that I am quite familiar with.

“Rosalie,” she says with an arrogant sniff.

I feel my mouth break out in a small smile. I will stay out of her way if she stays out of mine.

The last member of the Cullen Coven to introduce herself stands up and kneels in front of me. She looks me directly in the eyes and says, “Alice.”

In my dark spiral there is now flecks of gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are slowly escalating between Hazel and Alice.  
> I referenced some 20th century material such as Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and the Wizard of Oz I do not own or hold any rights to these stories.  
> Feel free to let me know what you think and I hope you liked this chapter and I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic-of-the-West


	5. Unmentionable

I feel myself attempt the art of swallowing, my throat feels all dry and scratchy. Even my saliva is different, it feels thick like mucous and yet dry. This is strange, I feel my breath hitch. I want this to STOP.

I want to stray my dull gaze from the golden stare. I am being hypnotized, just like when I watch the star Capella at night and all of it’s twinkling colours within the glowing silver orb are far out of sight.

For a second time this evening I feel my face stretch, as if I am smiling? Wait, why is she smiling? Alice I mean.

The bird trills within, I feel as if I am in a golden bubble. I try to listen to the sounds from outside of this bubble, there is no outside sound there is just gold.

“Where is Edward?”

I start I feel my jump, startle and spook. It is as if there is a serpent going up my spine. In some cultures and teachings it is believed that the spine is a serpent and it desires and seeks love. Well, my sex seeking serpent is awakened it burns, it writhes, and I can feel my serpent eyes look down towards Alice’s…nope not going there.

Why won’t she LEAVE, I want her to leave. “Don’t touch me!” I hear myself hiss. I really am a serpent…cool.

“Here, Hazel, come…sit,” my mother gently prompts.

I sit in my dark blue midnight wingback armchair I feel my body recline with a satisfied sigh. An unwelcome touch echoes on my hand. Someone is missing, a cold hand is missing. We would not fit anyway, I silently mutter to myself.

“He is with his mate,” I hear my uncle’s velvety voice say, as I stare into the red caverns of the fire.

I know I am supposed to fear fire I can see Alice does. She stares at it as if she is a deer and they are headlights for a lack of a better image.

“It can’t hurt you know,” I softly tell her.

Why am I being friendly? I chastise myself.

“It has already hurt me,” she murmurs so softly as if she is a mouse, with the most adorable squeak.

I almost smile…almost.

“I am sorry…for your loss, your brother…” I force out with a restrained eye roll. Have you ever tried to restrain an eye roll. It is like one of the most painful things, ever.

“Your brother…must have been…” I try to say.

“My mate,” Alice interrupts.

“What!?” I hear myself exclaim. Was that me? I feel so far away, get back Hazel, get back!

“Jasper was my mate…he…” Alice is almost as choked as I am. I don’t need her to say how much she misses him. I can see it like morning dew on the green grass or ocean waves. I can see it so obviously that my chest constricts with her pain.

I feel myself dig my fingernails in the silk upholstery of the couch so hard that my nails ache. I feel like a snake cat. I feel my fingers rhythmically circle the silver circles that are hammered into the fabric. I have no idea what they are called.

There is a hushed conversation happening behind me, my mother’s anger is fuming like burning food in an oven. “A human! Carlisle how could you! After everything!”

“She is different Marsella!” he growls.

“Different…I suppose a vampire who is drunk on love and is being serenaded by sweet sweet blood is telling you that,” my mother states with arched eyebrows.

“Yes!” Carlisle exclaims.

I shudder at the animalistic tone.

“Let him go Marsella…let him go,” I hear my uncle say so tenderly, tears prickle at the back of my eyes.

This is not good…this is not good. I need to…I need to…

“You don’t seem all that different,” a deep voice says. And for some reason I can feel their deep words are directed at me, without me even having to look at them. I feel all of their stares, as if I am a loud spark in the small fire.

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult,” I quietly comment.

“It was neither,” Rosalie frigidly mutters.

“What were you expecting then, a hunchbacked, sharp toothed ghoul, or were you expecting…”

“Hazel! Stop it! You are being rude.”

“Me rude? Mother, I didn’t come into this house and question them on their differences. Who is being rude?” I heatedly question.

“He just means you don’t seem all that different from us…Carlisle said that you were having difficulties and…” someone tries to say. I don’t care who it is.

“Having difficulties…do you know who you are! You are monsters…zombies…not even living people and yet you exist, who is having difficulties. My heart beats and I feel…so deeply, and you call that a difficulty,” I admonish. I smirk with satisfaction that Emmett looks like a kicked puppy.

“From how I see it, this Edward is a difficulty. What do you know of this human he so called loves? She could be a danger to your kind,” I honestly tell them.

“Bella is not a danger…she is my friend,” Alice says melodiously with a small smile, as if she is staring up at a sky filled with falling snowflakes.

My internal monster growls with jealousy that I was not able to be the one to make her smile like that.

“I have an idea,” Rosalie proposes, “what if Hazel meets Bella and she can see if her intentions are true or not.”

“Was Jasper not able to…” my mother tries asks.

“No,” Carlisle answers. “She smells good to all of us, it warbles our thoughts like static.”

I nod with decision, “What makes you think I won’t react the same way?”

“Because you are different,” Emmett quips with a boyish grin.

“What is in it for me?” I query.

“Is the notion that you are keeping your family safe not enough?” a soft lilting voice says.

I have not heard that voice. Esme…I think her name is. I almost forgot she was here, I think with a shrug of indifference.

“I hardly know you to call you family,” I mutter. I may as well be shouting. There is no use muttering around vampires. They hear you anyway…remember that.

Then a scent invades my senses, a scent that beckons a floral perfume with hints of lemon. I feel a soft touch on my hand. I feel my open eyes further open as if there was a transparent screen over them. Words are futile.

“Please Hazel,” Alice imploringly whispers with her golden eyes wide and imploring.

I silently nod. My body is filled with tingles and shame, what have I gotten myself into.

I have no idea what is happening except I hear the unmentionable word, “Hospital.”


	6. White Walls

I am shaking there is an earthquake in my heart right in the centre of my being, of a magnitude infinity. I feel fright prickle my eyes. I won’t cry, not here, not ever!

I hate hospitals all of them. I feel Carlisle’s tall shadow beside. I know he is trying to be comforting but he is being suffocating.

I feel the inner demon within me roar against the bars of my ribs. I feel my upper lip curl with disgust. ‘ _Run away, run away!’_ my mind cries. Oh how I wish I could be heartless like the marble monster beside me, but I cannot. The fist sized organ within me beats. I can envision the muscle covered in blood and more blood it is encased in the thick fluid like a box of doughnuts.

I hate doughnuts they are deep fried bagels that it that’s all. And the worst thing about doughnuts is they are happy. I HATE HAPPY.

A gurney with a prone figure and wires rapidly rolls right by us. I steady my hand on my beating organ. I see the drip of the IV as it is passing life instead of giving it. A failed attempt at survival.

The stench of hospitals invades my nose and makes my nose burn. Why did I say yes? Why did I agree to help? I am selfish and self serving bitch. Not a goody two shoes. There is nothing good about me, that was revealed a long time ago. I am fine with that really. I am not here for anybody’s reflection except my own. Why does Alice’s face flash through my mind like a beacon through the dark.

Why do my lungs scream for help hoping that she will come? I am a selfish bitch…not a damsel. I feel my hand robotically wipe my eyes I don’t even know what I am doing. I feel so far away as if I am slipping I need to…

“You look a like your mother,” Carlisle’s velvety voice interrupts my mental disappearing act.

“Huh?” I extrapolate.

‘ _Smooth Hazel, really smooth nice and eloquent, you blasted nicompoop_.’

Did he just smile? I clear my constricted throat, “Thank you.”

I see him smile again his teeth are just as white as the surrounding walls that appear to get closer and closer as if they are closing in on me.

I need to…

“I guess it has not been easy for you…”

‘ _What is he talking about? And why are his golden eyes so soft_.’

“No,” I hear myself say.

‘ _Why does my voice sound so small. Get back Hazel get back_ …’

“What kind of doctor are you and how do you…” I ask in that small voice of mine again. I hate this, I hate the way my body wants to smile at him as if he was my fa…no nope, listen to him Hazel just listen to him I tell myself.

“I am a trauma surgeon here. This is my day off as to how I resist…well it is easy after centuries of practice…how do you resist Hazel?” I look into his eyes that seem to be more alive then any human.

“I don’t thirst for blood…my mother feeds me blood sausages or blood pudding just in case…I haven’t killed,” I tell him, my eternal earthquake is thundering inside of me, I have never felt more exposed.

“That’s good,” he says with a tight lipped smile. I look around, ah, we passed someone. I hate being 5’3” I hope one day I grow or something. I know there are shorter people. I just feel so lost…

“We are heading through to the third floor,” Carlisle’s smooth voice once again finds me before I can…how does he do that? How…does he catch me before I fall.

My father never knew how to catch me. He never got a chance to try. No, that is not true, those are not my feelings. I look up from the crisp, cool, pale sanitized white flooring with grey lines and I see a freshly broken family.

I hate hospitals they are full of pain. Brimming with pain. There is no healing. All the healing happens away from the hospital. This place, this place, reeks of sickness. I hate it. I hate all the pain and I hate…I gulp elevators. Steel boxes that are fuelled by electricity and we blindly put our lives in their care. No thank you.

“Can we take the stairs?” I hear myself ask in a broken whisper.

“We will get there faster in an elevator,” Carlisle absently tells me.

I close my eyes in anguish, a stretcher has come on.

I want to vomit. This person is unconscious and is in a lot of pain I can feel and smell their rotting bile from here. Mind you, I am right beside them. My head soars with a headache, ‘ _make it stop, make it stop!_ ’ I hear my mind scream.

You know what else I hate besides hospitals and doughnuts. I hate adults, they are all self serving and immoral. They rule the world and we have to do everything their way. Well I don’t want to do everything Carlisle’s way or even my mother’s way. I want to do things my way! The way…

The elevator doors ‘ding’ and Carlisle’s puts his dead hand on my shoulder. We let the stretcher past first, “Thank you Dr. Cullen,” I hear the stretcher pusher say. I have no idea if they are nurse or doctor. I could care less. I hate them they bring pain.

‘ _They also bring healing,_ ’ my inner demon chimes.

“Shut up I didn’t ask you and you know death is the ultimate healer,” I mutter. I can feel Carlisle’s side long glance that is wafting curiosity and concern. I want to spit in his face, I am no freak in a circus. Well I am a freak. I hate circuses. They are…

“Whose this…” a new voice says. I feel a tingle in my mind I clamp my defences shut as if my mind is an oyster hiding a precious pearl.

I feel the monster’s surprise…good, I feel my small lips twitch up into a defiant smirk of satisfaction…gotcha Edward.

“Is she awake?” Carlisle’s asks.

“Yes,” Edward replies. “Why?”

“We need to see her,” Carlisle says.

“No, you don’t. She is fine, she is healing. We are not even related, you can go in Carlisle but I won’t let this mutant in. We are not even related, I can’t read her how do you know she won’t…” Edward reacts.

If I had hackles they would be raised to the sky right now. “We’re related,” I bite out. “well, Carlisle is related. I come from a different branch. You need to control yourself. I felt you tickle my mind that is rude and uncalled for. Now, I am here putting myself at risk for your family, so excuse me, I need to go and read your girlfriend,” I charmingly tell him. Frankly I am pleased with myself, I was honestly polite, well done Hazel.

When I walk into the room, well I am taken aback. I have never seen such a dull looking human before and that is coming from me. She is dangerous, not in the classical way more like the pathological serial killer I will kill you because I hold a grudge against you way. Woah that was a head full.

Her eyes are lifelessly brown. For some reason I am filled with pity for her, or is that herself. She is staring off into space. I need to do this and I need to do it quick.

“Hi,” I lightly greet.

“Hey,” I resist rolling my eyes again… ‘ _hey, she is not a horse._ ’

“Are you a doctor?” she asks in a dull voice.

“No, I am one of Carlisle’s assistants, he wanted me to help,” I lie.

“So, you’re one of them,” she says with whispered wonder.

“I can neither confirm or deny,” I retort. “What is your name?” I ask.

“Bella.”

‘ _A dull name for a dull girl_.’

“They tried to kill me their kind, except that they are not their kind, Edward says he is a vegetarian James was not…” Bella brokenly explains.

I feel her fear flooding her like a flash flood. I won’t manipulate her emotions. She is better off afraid.

“I am not going to lie to you Bella, you are dangerous too, for them you are dangerous. They lost a member of their coven for you!” I exclaim.

“How dare you! You don’t think I feel bad about that. I couldn’t just let Edward go, not after…” Bella bites out.

A cruel laugh spurs from my throat as if there is a headless rider within me. If I had fangs they would be bared, “You don’t see it do you? You are so weak. You are an energetic vampire a dull lifeless being who sucks all the light from the earth. Your thirst for uniqueness and difference is killing those around you. You don’t need romantic love right now Bella you need a friend. And that is not Edward. You are too dependent on him. You need to learn to breathe on your own. You have to remember that he is not alive he has no heart. He is designed to seduce that is why his scent calls you. He is not a friend or foe. Just leave him be…”

“Lies, you speak LIES!” Edward roars.

“Do whatever you want,” I say with dizzy indifference as I wave them off. I am too exhausted to try and argue. I released the demon and now I need to…float?


	7. Lips

_I feel cold lips on me that tingle with unhindered passion. More I want more. “More,” I whimper. I hear a chiming laughter like a bell and then a tongue I feel a smooth wet tongue lick my…_ I wake up with a gasp. My eyes feel heavy and there is a heady scent that lingers in the air. A scent that smells of passion and…I feel my underwear, sopping wet.

“Great,” I grumble at least I won’t be seeing any vampires today because I have my period. Yup Aunt Flo has arrived folks.

A part of me wonders about what Bella does when she has her period. She is so dependent on Edward that she has to be in the same room as him “Because oh no, what if he does something cool that I will miss…” I gasp out like a school girl in a high pitched tone.

I look at my wild straight blond hair that reminds me of an electrocuted cartoon. You know the ones in the books where they touch something and they spark and the pictures shows the electric shock affecting their skeletons and then their hair and it stands straight up. Well that is my hair right now standing on end “Pathetic,” my dry lips mutter at my natural reflection.

I wonder what my skeleton looks like, is it bleached white bone or is it red. “Why would it be red?”

“Not everything is red Hazel.”

I turn around so quick that I can feel my neck crack…ouch. “Mother,”I feel my lips move with a tight grimace.

She carefully approaches me knowing how irritable I can be, especially today. I roll my eyes at her blatant caution, “It is good to see you awake. When Carlisle brought you back I was concerned.”

“How long was I asleep this time?” I ask with genuine curiosity.

“Two days.”

“Not bad,” I murmur, it really is not the last time I fainted I was asleep for a week.

“Yes, well, it is not good either.”

“No, I know,” I say quietly because it is not. I am so sensitive I can’t control my body it is as if It becomes so overstimulated by everything that it simply turns off on its own. “You said his name,” I tell her with a satisfied smirk it was about time, he is her brother after all.

“Whose?”

I roll my eyes at my mother for a professor of knowledge because she seems to be an expert in everything she is dense. No really, when I say she is an expert in everything I mean from the neolithic period to calculus she is an expert. That is one of the reasons why I am home schooled because my mother is a genius. Regular school just never worked out for me. For Dracula’s sake I sound like the kid from _The Polar Express,_ the ghost is my favourite character in that story. It sometime boggles my mind how her and my father connected and fell in love I have no idea. He was a reindeer farmer and she is a walking encyclopedia.

“Carlisle,” I tell her with my arms crossed and I can feel my lips upturning into a smile.

She snorts and playfully cuffs me on the head like I am a lion cub. Honestly I am offended. Being treated like an animal although humans are animals. My interest is in biology. I like to study life pretty ironic huh? For a person who comes from dead monster heritage.

It comes from my father actually or dad. He was my dad, I do not like talking or thinking about him too much because he is not here. In some Indigenous cultures people do not speak a dead person’s name because they are not here anymore. It makes sense to me and yet I can’t help but look outside my misty window and see the forest beyond. He is in the dead forest.

I feel my cheeks blush when I think about where I have just been, no Hazel don’t let mother see not yet, you are too young, too young and she is too old. Too and old and too…

“How are you feeling today?” my mother’s rich smooth voice breaks through my useless thoughts.

I have no answer I am having trouble with my feelings it is as if they are flooding into me at once. My inner bird is trilling and flapping with trapped agitation. This is too much it is all too much. I guess my mother saw something on my face because once more I am being pulled into her warm embrace.

I hate this…I hate being alive…I hate feeling.

I nuzzle my nose into her shirt her calming scent of lavender and musty books surround me. “Would you like to go in the garden?” she asks, as if I am a small child.

I shake my head as if I am small child. I hate this I hate being soft and needy.

“No, I think that I am just going to draw or read,” I reply.

“Would you like something to eat?” she prods. She is being so motherly and yet my insides feel like a spider web sticky and twisted.

“Not right now maybe later.”

“What about a hot chocolate,” she says with a grin I almost moan with pleasure.

I feel my lips upturn into a grin that feels so strange on my face, “With a peanut butter and raspberry sandwich?”

“Done,” she says giving my small warm hand a squeeze.

She leaves my room and I return to my floor length antique mirror and I stare at my reflection. I observe my round burgundy eyes and my angular cheek bones that remind me of royalty. I look at my straight nose and I tilt it up. I glance at my pale ears on the side of my head that are not too big, and the last thing that I look at are my peaked pink lips that were dreamily kissed.

I almost gag at the tide of knowingness within me. “Three years,” my lips beg. “Please I will be ready in three years.” The demon inside of me battles against my ribbed cage once more before returning to a bottomless pit of darkness in my being.

“Three years, three years, three years,“ my lips mutter as I bite into the crispy sandwich and my white teeth are tinted red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I am interested to hear any of your thoughts and comments.  
> Writing again soon,  
> Mystic of the West


	8. Pain

I wake up with a groan. I slowly move my arm and a hot river of fire courses up my body. My legs twitch and tingles like a thousand needles. My skin burns and itches. I want to scream but my throat feels so raw as if I have been screaming for hours already. I want cold…I want…no…”Please…no,” I whimper.

“Shhhh Hazel, I am closing the curtains now my love, I checked the forecast and it said it would be warm and cloudy not sunny,” my mother coos her voice sounds like a dove. I don’t care I only want the burning to stop.

She places her too warm hand on my forehead or it feels too warm. I want to shiver with cold instead of shake with heat. “You don’t have any boils that is good my sapling, that is good.”

If it was any other day and she called me sapling I would have scoffed and retreated in the meadow and the forest and sulked in the cold shadowed canopy, ‘ _That dances with light,”_ my inner demon chimes. I can hear the whimsical and wishful smile in its voice as if it the su…

“Make it STOP mummy, make it STOP!” I scream. I feel as if I am screaming to deaf ears because she lightly grazes my forehead with her warm lips and brushes my static hair out of my eyes. I feel hot tears prickle behind my pained vision. I shake my head back and forth to keep them at bay.

The unknown is surfacing I can feel it rising, like lava in a volcano, or a flying bat out of a cave, or a ascending demon from dark depths. Alice, I want Alice. I want to look at her golden eyes. I want to be in the golden bubble that brings light to my dark world. I want to see her perfectly peaked lips twitch up in amusement. I want to run my fingers through her mousy brown styled hair to see if it is crusty with product or smooth and silky as if I am barely the brown strands at all. Most of all I want her to lay her cold hands all over my body and take away this heat.

I can feel the invading light attempting to shine through my black opaque curtains. I can feel the wrath of the sun. I whimper in pain as I think of my eternal nemesis. As if the evil orb can see, hear, and feel my invisible thoughts; I can feel its cosmic heat growing stronger. The tongues and dapples of yellow light create lines as they outline my black velvet curtains. Even the best superheroes have enemies. Superman had kryptonite and ironically enough I have the sun.

I open my closed eyes, my mother is no longer in the room. I can hear her approaching footsteps, “I have some water for you Hazel, I don’t know if I should call Carlisle or not,” she confesses to me.

I feel my head shake and my dry crack pained lips and my lips opening with a strong retort ‘No,’ just as they were starting to enunciate the sound of denial there is a loud echoing bang on the front door.

My mother starts and I can see some water has spilled over the tall glass making the glossy goblet more slippery. I wearily and exhaustively prop myself up against my plush satin grey pillow on my brass bed. My mother leaves the room with her light brown eyebrows raised to her forehead in surprise. I close my eyes suddenly I feel soft breathing beside me and a cold touch on my hand.

~

I wake up with a pained groan and fuzzy vision. Everything feels alight with flame. I turn and open my eyes to see the sun it is an unusually bright day. I want to smile but I feel my lips turn up into a wince instead. I hear a knock on the door. I turn around and see Edward, Bella is right behind him as usual. I am happy for him that he found someone to love and there is something special about Bella she is like a bird with a broken wing.

“You’re in pain,” Edward gently says.

“Of course I am in pain Edward, Jas…, my mate…” I choke out it feels like I am gasping for an invisible breath that is not my own. Grieving is very strange indeed.

“I am sorry Alice, I am sorry Bella needed me…” Edward tries to explain, I have never seen him so flustered. Love has tongue tied my eloquent brother.

I smile at the thought but let out a pained groan instead. I see his eyes topaz widen with alarm. “I am getting Carlisle,” he says hurriedly. “Stay with her Bella,” he firmly orders.

“No Edward but…” Bella cries dejectedly before she limps to my couch and sits down elevating her large cast on my lap. I pat the large plastic shield in some sort of semblance of comfort. I feel the pull and blurriness of an oncoming vision and darkness enters my heart.

_I see Hazel on a brass bed with thick white covers and a multicoloured quilt. She is writhing and in pain as an invisible fire overtakes her. I see her thirsting for cold and relief. I see her pale skin break out in red boils when she stands in the light. I hear her call…her call for me…she needs me…I am needed._

“I have to go!” I announce. I can hear the panic in my voice. 

“Alice, what?” Bella asks. “You can’t go anywhere, it is sunny out. Look blue sky bright light. You are going to sparkle!”

“I have a black cloak Bella I have to go!” I cry, as I wrap myself in the ebony fabric and my body runs to the garage.

I chose the silver Lamborghini with the black tinted windows to hide the bright light and my supernatural skin. I thrust the loud engine forward as I propel myself to the stone house. I bang on the wooden guard that is standing between me and my thirst for help. I am greeted by a very surprised Marsella and I effortlessly slip past her with mind numbing speed.

I enter a stone room with a blue carpeted floor and a brass bed on the right hand side which is beside a velvet dark curtained obstruction of light, despite there being a hopeful glow around the dark border.

My stare lands on a victim of light a creature of twilight and dawn…”Hazel,” I whisper, as my hand reaches to touch her warm hand. I can hear deep sigh of relief, I feel my lips twitch up in a bright smile. This is where I am meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that wanted to be shared and a visit from Alice. I hope that you enjoyed this story and thank you all for your wonderful feedback and comments. Please let me know your thoughts about this chapter. I am interested to read your thoughts. 
> 
> Until next time,  
> Mystic of the West
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Superman or kryptonite they belong to Marvel


	9. Mortified

I feel my right arm move as if there is an electrical current sparking all the way to my heart. My fingers twinge and twitch as if they are seeking an invisible cloth. I feel my eyelids open and my vision is sleep blurred I am facing my old tapestry of an unicorn in a corral. I feel my lips turn up into a small smile before a deep realization dawns on me like a candle being snuffed out in a dark room. I turn around and see…a monster.

I must of let out a gasp of some sort because yellow citrine eyes turn to look at me. Eyes that are alight with mischief and light. I feel myself enter the comforting world of darkness my external cavern, I close my eyes in mortification.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” Alice’s lyrical voice whispers to me. It sounds like bird song to my ears. I want to puke.

I shake my head. I can taste my own rancid breath and my stomach is in knots as if my sex serpent is tangled up inside of me. Maybe I am the dead one.

The deathly pale creature beside me is more alive then I will ever be…come on Hazel be better then that I tell myself.

I feel myself scramble over the smooth covers, how my bed covers stayed smooth I will never know.

I go to the bathroom on the opposite side of the hall and I look at myself in the mirror. I look at my sleep tousled blond hair and my burgundy eyes that look bruised with exhaustion. The stabbing pain is just a mere ache. I have no idea of time or day. ‘ _That is something Alice will know_ ,’ my inner demon chimes.

I close my eyes in mortification and fear “Go away, go away, go away,” I murmur.

“Hazel are you alright?” my mother’s warm voice asks.

My eyes remain closed the warm darkness is replaced by burning comfort and warmth as if I have just entered into a new room.

My mother envelopes me in her brown shawl that reminds me of wings. “I was worried,” she whispers to me.

I want to say I am sorry but I am not. I will not apologize for my existence, not today and not ever. “What time is it?” I ask in a small voice.

“It is twilight. I made dinner if you are hungry,” my mother softly tells me as she runs her long graceful fingers through my electrified hair.

“What did you make?” I ask with exhausted curiosity.

“Beef Wellington stew.”

“I will have some.”

“Good,” my mother says with a toothy grin. I feel my head tilt with intrigue what did she do to the stew?

I feel my right knee buckle with exhaustion. “Time to enter the monster’s lair,” I sigh with mortification.

I enter my plain bedroom and see Alice looking out the window she looks like a backwards portrait. My hand wants to caress her straight back and awaken her inner serpent to awaken the dead nerves under my fingers. To feel her writhe and stop…stop…stop…this is too much these thoughts are too much. These feelings, they are not mine they are not Alice’s either. They are mine but from an older me did I just experience a universal glitch? As if my consciousness time travelled! Is that even possible? Three years, three years, three years my mind begs. Why three? I don’t know, I don’t know anything I am being flooded by knowing and caring and I just want it all to stop!

“Why are you here?” I ask the vampire that looks to be made of out marble that is standing in front of me.

“I came to help you,” Alice says as she turns around.

“Well you did, I was not dying, you can go now,” I internally wince at the hurt that flashes through her dead gaze. I ignore the very alive feelings writhing in me at the dead creature in front of me.

She is dead, I can’t love something dead, not in the way my body wants to I am four… “I am glad that you are feeling better.”

I feel my tired look at her, “Me too,” I say sincerely feeling a small smile spreading on my face. What is wrong with me, get a grip Hazel you loopy freak.

“May I ask what happened?” Alice asks in the most gentle voice I have ever heard.

I want to shout out a no and stomp out of the room but instead I find myself walking to my bed and Alice stays standing there rooted in front of the window overlooking the meadow and forest. I feel myself smile at the irony.

“I am allergic to the sun. It is as if my body knows that it is sunny before I do and it inflames with pain. I don’t have to stand in the harsh light I can feel its primal energy and heat from inside. It hurts me Alice. Sometimes it catches my by surprise when I go outside and my skin gets itchy and red and when it is particularly bad I break out in boils. It is like my skin burns from the inside out. It hurts at first until it erupts before it scabs over and leaves a scar then it is just a nuisance. My mother says it is because of my bloodline and creature genes. The joint pain though, the joint pain is the worse,” I tell her with a wince as I remember that searing pain that I woke up to. I feel my brows furrow with confusion as a thought that I have not thought of before enters my mind.

“How did you come here?”

“I drove,” she answers with an angelic smirk.

“What? You were just driving around a remote part of town and thought that you would visit and say good morning?” I ask sarcastically.

She shifts on her feet and says, “I saw you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an updated chapter it feels like a long time since I posted a new chapter. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and as always I am interested to hear any of your thoughts or impressions.  
> Writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	10. Vampire Revelations

“What do you mean you saw me? Were you looking in my window, standing in the meadow, or climbed a tree in the for…”

“No,” she interrupts.

I glare at her, well I hope that I am glaring at her. I hate being interrupted. Only I can interrupt me…no one else can.

“I saw you in my mind, in a vision…” she tells me, clearly annoying my glare.

“So you’re a psychic vampire?” I ask.

“Of sorts,” she says with the most adorable shrug I have ever seen, it was innocent yet not?

I nod, as she continues, “I see things, events that will happen, events that are happening.”

“So you don’t see the events that were?” I ask with curiosity.

“No. I don’t see the past just the present and future. It is not objective though and it changes,” she explains to me as she slowly approaches the bed and sits beside me.

“So when you say you saw me?”

“I was sleeping and I saw you…”

“Wait, you sleep?”

“Lately I have been yes…I think it is because of Jasper, I lost my mate Hazel and a part of me is in mourning,” Alice tries to explain to me. She doesn’t have to explain it anymore. I can feel it her pain wafting off of her as if her feelings are flames licking heatedly at my conscious. It is dark and ugly.

“So you came to see me because you were bored?” I harshly whisper.

“What? Hazel what kind of response is that for an empath!?” she exclaims with such fire. In her yellow eyes I can see glimmers of orange.

I shrug with indifference.

“No! I was awakened by a vision of you screaming in pain. I thought I could help, I feel something with you Hazel. I feel alive…” she tells me gently as she reaches for my hand.

“You’re not alive though Alice, you’re dead!” I say as I avoid the icy touch.

“Stop Hazel!”

“I am fourteen years old Alice…fourteen, you are…”

“Nineteen.”

“In human years,” I prod.

“Eighty-five.”

“Eighty-five really?” I gasp out with a smile.

She rolls her topaz eyes at me. Did a vampire just roll her eyes at me? Huh.

“I wanted to come and I want to help you Hazel, will you let me help you and be my friend?”

“No. I don’t want to be your friend. And I don’t want to be groomed to be something more.”

“What? What do you mean by ‘groomed,’ you are not a dog. I have never met such a vile human.”

I scoff, “I am not all human and a friend does not cuddle the way you do. I don’t want to be your friend…I don’t want to be anybody’s friend!” I say as I storm out of my bedroom and run out of the house ignoring the calls of my mother. I sprint barefooted into the forest, into the forest of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I would be writing again soon, hehe.   
> I hope that you enjoyed this short chapter and I am interested to hear any of your thoughts. 
> 
> Until words come to visit again   
> Mystic of the West


	11. Into the Shadows

As I sprint out of my house I feel the slippery blades of green grass under my feet, I feel so disconnected from the world and my body that I wish they were sharp green blades so I could feel their sharp edges cutting into the thick skin of my feet. My vision is split and I imagine crimson footsteps following my racing tracks.

I run fast and I run hard into the forest. I am being welcomed by tendrils of mist floating by my ankles as if they are healing clouds. I am in a cold place and I feel comfortably alone. Some people fear being lonely and being alone. Being lonely is very different then being alone. I love being alone, especially here where the air is warm with cold shadows.

There was a time once when I feared the forest. I feared any part of the natural world really. When I was on top of a mountain, overlooking a meadow, walking in a forest, or even sitting on a log on the beach, I felt so seen and vulnerable, it was like I would walk into the forest and all of my shadows and insecurities were before me. I hated it.

Then something changed like a new season, I can’t put my exact finger on it. It probably was a multiplication of events, I think with a shrug as I kick a lone pine cone with my bare big toe and I watch it roll on its side into the recess of a large trunk that is extending its roots like tentacles.

I am beneath a large tree fir tree that is helping to create the sheltered canopy I am under. I look at the rivers of roots below me and I lift my gaze up at the evergreen branches above. I bring my gaze from the long branches blanketing the grey sky above to the brown earth below and I see that the branches above reflect the branches of the roots below. Or is it the other way around, below to above? They are both expanding and growing in their own ways, yet they are part of the same entity. “As above, so below. As below, so above,” I whisper, “Forever intertwined in destiny’s time.” Tears prickle behind my eyes like toothpicks stabbing my skin. I blame it on the spontaneous breeze, that has mysteriously passed by me.

Then I hear voices, gentle murmuring from the meadow beside the grove of fir trees. My curiosity is peaked like a mountain above a cloud. My feet are numb from running and they are soaked in earth. I think I just felt a worm wriggle in my under my toes. I gently walk on the sides of my feet, my father taught me how to walk into the forest without scaring animals. He had to be very good at being quiet and patient considering he was a reindeer herder and they have a strong prey drive, even stronger then horses. I am brought back to the present by a strand of old man’s beard tickling my face. I swat at it like a cat and watch the mossy green strand rock back and forth as if it is an instrument that creates mute music. Who knows maybe it is making music but the vibration of the notes are beyond my creature hearing.

“ _You feel it now don’t you,_ ” my inner demon whispers.

“Sure, yeah, sure, I feel it,” I murmur.

 _“What do you feel?”_ it chimes.

 _“_ Love, I feel love,” I answer but it is not mine, not my love. No, the love that I feel is radiating and pulsing ripples of light throughout my being. I am expecting a unicorn to come trotting out of the thick bush soon. I glance up to see if there are any pink clouds. I tiptoe closer to the meadow and I can see two people embracing in the emerald field wrapped around each other’s arms like ivy.

When they separate from their intimate hold it doesn’t take me long to recognize who it is. I have only ever seen a dull human like that, for Dracula’s sake she looks more boring and awkward standing up. Bella’s posture is hunched over and small. I don’t need to see Edward to recognize him. I can smell him just fine thank you, he smells clean, he also has a sour smell like ink or something I don’t know. All I know is he doesn’t smell as good as Alice…she smells…like ra…STOP HAZEL, I scream at myself.

“ _Let yourself feel…let yourself…”_ my inner demon suggests. 

“Shut up,” I mutter.

_“You’re only lying to yourself Hazel.”_

“I never asked you for your opinion, go back, get back, and stay back!” I hiss at the truthful entity within. No it is not truthful it lies…it chea…

“Whose there!” A strong voice interrupts my vicious thoughts that remind me of fighting wolves.

I feel the thundering beats of my heart as if there is a herd of horses galloping inside of me. I gulp and I feel my eyes are wide. ‘he is a monster Hazel don’t show him any fear it will only add helium to his already full ego,’ I tell myself.

My fingers absently scratch at my long spindly arms I feel like a spider monkey, no that is not my feeling. Where the hell did that spider monkey thought come from? From the fearful eternal land of flames below, or maybe this moment is hell it sounds so cringeworthy it has to be. Then I feel or see that feeling came from Edward or Bella? I am not sure which. They are both so infatuated with each other it is exhausting. At least Edward didn’t try to tickle my mind again. He is an early twentieth century gentleman after all.

My sharp nails itch against my pale skin creating scarlet lines on a pale canvas. My nerves twitch get a grip Hazel. Right get a grip on what? Reality feels so far away. I am being drowned by waves of love, it is overwhelmingly and haunting and I want it to STOP.

“Hello cousin,” I greet with a smirk.

Edward lifts his top lip in a growl and Bella puts her boring hand on his chest as if she is calming him. I don’t care what she is doing. I want to leave and my feet feel stuck. I am frozen in a green meadow in summer, this is ridiculous!

“Are you spying on us?” Bella asks.

“No I wasn’t spying, and even if I was I would most not likely tell you,” I generically answer.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” Edward observes staring down at my speckled feet.

“I didn’t feel like it,” I say with a shrug,

“You are so weird,” Bella tells me with a lopsided smile, she shakes her dull head of long brown hair at me as if we have been best friends forever.

I growl at her and I feel my hands become fists, “Really you of all people call me weird. Get a grip on reality Bella and look at yourself in a mirror. I am not the one who is obsessed with a dead monster!” I bite back, I feel spit fly out of my mouth like venom.

“ _Are you sure about that?”_ my inner demon chimes.

I pull at the strands of my blonde hair mere tufts in my long fingers. I feel the world spin and then I feel two hands on my shoulder and a voice in my head, a strong, soothing voice.

“Hey, don’t get yourself so worked up. You’re safe. For a little monster you have a lot of strength. Enough now, clearly we are family and we did not have a proper introduction. I am Edward and I would help Jasper ground and centre himself when he would react very similarly as you are now. That is why Alice likes you you know. You remind her of him. Let’s get you back home, your feet are turning purple.”

I look down at the aforementioned anatomy and I can clearly see that my feet are turning purple and red. “Don’t talk about her,” I mutter.

“Who?” Bella asks.

“Alice,” I state, ‘you dum dum who do you think?’

I don’t wait for Bella’s boring reaction instead I turn to Edward and whisper to him to my ears it’s sounds like I am shouting, “Do not do that to me ever again!” His reaction is dead emotion funny right…not. I am so done with this moment, this meadow, and this forest that I ignore the bland couple who reminds me of old cereal and I run home back into the shadows, begging any higher entity that Alice is not there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter or the story so far. I am interested in reading more of your comments. Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> Writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	12. My Life is FUBAR

I wake with a groan, I sense that something is different this morning. I don’t feel my mother’s presence in the house. We have this strange ability to sense each other in time and space, she is not here; I don’t mind, not really. I hear the loud ringing of the doorbell repeatedly echo around the stone walls. I can see the silhouette of a tall figure…no two tall figures on the other side.

I slowly open the heavy door and I see Carlisle and Bella. “Good morning Hazel” he says with a kind smile. I silently nod in greeting. I am looking at Bella she is very sad. Like a heartbroken sad. My stupid heart aches.

I feel the sound of our Volkswagen camper van drive down the street and I see my mother get out carrying groceries. “Good morning Marsella,” Carlisle says as he leaves Bella’s side to go and help my mother with groceries.

Bella and I stand in awkward silence, everything she does is awkward. She toes the doormat with her black converse staring at the ground with her dull eyes. I stare at her with my arms crossed. I glance up from the miserable human in front of me and see my mother and Carlisle in a heated discussion.

“We just got here Carlisle to see you, and now you are leaving. Typical,” she mutters. “I need help with my daughter and you just up and leave. I was a fool thinking you have changed!” she hisses to him. Our front yard is encased in sadness. A thick grey grey sadness. Carlisle looks so broken more then Bella in front of me.

“My family is in danger Marsella,” he tells her with a voice that is thick with emotion. To my ears it sounds like he talking through layers of mucous. Green sticky mucous. Do vampires have mucous? I think with a shrug.

“Well maybe you should have thought of that before letting your son run around with a human,” my mother bites out.

I can’t help a smile pull at my lips. I want to jump up and down with a loud cheer but a choking sound from Bella distracts me from my internal celebration. I can clearly see that she is not okay. “Aren’t you going with them?” I ask.

“No,” Bella says in a broken whisper.

“What are you doing here then?” I ask.

My answer is a shrug of silence and another toe prod to the doormat. I sigh, “Hazel?” my mother asks.

I look up at her and I feel my lips turn up in a smile at her titled head of long light brown hair and bright burgundy eyes full of love for me. “Yes,” I ask.

“Bring Bella inside and make some tea for Carlisle do you know the one I am talking about?” I nod, of course I do. “You can make a lavender and ginger to for Bella and yourself if you like.”

“Ok,” I say before walking inside and into our kitchen that reminds me of a square. The floor is covered in black and white tiles, there is a light blue carpet by the sink where we do dishes. There is also a wooden island in the middle separating the stove and oven from the sink. My favourite part of the kitchen in the far centre of the kitchen where the bay window is and our breakfast and tea table overlooking the garden. I love this window and the view it overlooks, it reminds me of a dream. It is a window that beckons the viewer for a closer look, and when you get close enough you get pulled into a whole new world. I get pulled into a world of darkness and light I an surrounded by welcoming shadows when I visit it. Shadows of the seasons past and the seasons to come.

I open the refrigerator and grab the bag of blood. I can hear Bella’s gagging sound she has her pale hand covering her mouth. Honestly, I will never know why she was attracted to a vampire in the first place. She cannot even stand the sight of blood. I warm the porcelain pan on the gas stove. I hate this stove it feels too modern. More than that I hate being watched by a boring human.

“Is that…?” Bella chokes out.

“Yes,” I answer. “What? You have never seen a bag of blood before?”

“No,” Bella says with a head shake, “Not like that,” she says as she covers her mouth once more. I now know why my mother told me to make the lavender and ginger tea. I pour the crimson liquid out of the transparent container and into the pan on the stove.

“Where did you get it?” Bella asks.

“It’s my mother’s,” I reply with such ease that I surprise myself.

“Your mother’s? But I thought that she was...a vampire too,” Bella observes.

“She is and she isn’t,” I cryptically reply as I open the herb closet and retrieve the fresh ginger from the small wicker basket and the black jar that is labeled _Lavender_ in colour coded lavender ink. I roll my eyes at my mother’s organizational skills before I blush and remember that it was me who did that. I flick the switch of the glass kettle on and hear the electric kettle buzz to life, it is too loud.

I hear my mother and Carlisle loudly enter the kitchen still hissing venomously to each other in whispers. I am too distracted to hear what they are saying. I am dizzy. “Carlisle,” my mother exhaustively sighs.

“Please Marsella, it is for her own safety,” he tells her with deep conviction.

“What about our safety?” my mother asks.

“You are safe,” he simply states. “They don’t know about you,” he cryptically replies.

“Maybe not,” she says. “But they do know about Bella,” she adds.

“They do,” Carlisle gravely says.

“Your choices are once again putting me in danger, I don’t like it!” my mother exclaims.

“How was turning Esme and Edward putting us in danger?” he asks.

“Because you turned them without their consent, they were too sick to understand what was happening around THEM,” my mother roars.

I roll my eyes at the century old argument and I turn towards Bella and am flooded with a feeling of curiosity. “Stay out of it,” I hiss.

“But it sounds so interesting,” she whines.

I roll my eyes, “Trust me it’s not. Anyway, it’s none of your business,” I mutter.

“I can make it my business,” she murmurs.

“Like you did with Edward,” I reply with a very proud smirk on my face watching rage that is dusting red splotches on Bella’s pale skin. Her brown eyes are alighted with fury. Good.

“Don’t say his name,” she says with a clear voice. A voice that I did not think she was capable of.

“I won’t say his name if you stay out of their business,” I propose. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good,” I hear myself distractedly murmur as I wash and cut the ginger. I put it in the mauve pottery teapot with a bat sculpted on the lid. I toss two tablespoons of lavender in the purple cavern of steaming water. The final step is the yellow tea cozy on top. I carry the tea pot and cast iron trivet to the living room. I go back into the kitchen being followed by Bella.

“Can I help?” she asks.

“Sure,” my mother says. “In the cupboard right beside the toaster there is a set of pottery teacups choose whatever one you like dear and bring two more one more into the living room.” She does as she was instructed and I stir the blood in the pot. The scarlet liquid simmers and bubbles over the steady blue flame. The blood starts to boil and splats little red dots all across the pan that looks like miniature red suns all across a cloudy sky filled with white clouds. I turn off the heat not wanting the warm life force to stick to the bottom and burn.

I pour the steaming elixir into two light green pottery cups, “Thank you Hazel,” my mother says as she runs her fingers through my hair. She sighs deeply before giving my shoulder a soft squeeze and walks into the living room. Carlisle follows after her. I am the last to enter in the cold room that is surrounded by blankets and chairs, there is an old piano against the warm coloured blue walls that are not flickering with shadows of a fire. I sit down in the midnight blue wingback chair that is closest to the cold fire place fighting back memories of the first time I met Alice. 

My mother clears her throat as she pours Bella and I tea, “Thank you,” Bella quietly says. I give a silent nod of thanks.

“What do you think Bella?” Carlisle asks.

“It’s cozy,” she says.

I am confused I look to my mother for clarification her burgundy eyes keenly watch mine as she takes a sip of her blood tea. Her lips and white teeth are stained red as she tells me, “Bella is going to stay with us for awhile.”

“What!” I exclaim. “Why? Doesn’t she have a home?”

Carlisle squirms in his velvet purple chair, “She does,” he says, “but, we do not want to put her father in unnecessary danger.”

“Right,” I say with a dry bitter laugh that reminds me of sandpaper, “Because danger will not come to us.”

“You know it won’t Hazel. She is safe with you,” he says softly and warmly.

I roll my eyes at his comforting tone. His care for Bella is nauseating. “Why does she not stay with you?” I ask.

“Because we are leaving,” he reveals with a deep sigh.

“Why?” I ask.

“Not enough food,” he simply states.

I know it is a lie.

“I will get your bags from the car Bella,” he tells her. Bella nods and spills some warm tea on her hands she hisses and I snort.

“Hazel,” my mother groans. “Please show Bella to her room,” she instructs.

I do as she says and I take a large mouthful of my steaming tea and swallow the scalding liquid without a grimace. The burning skin of my throat relieves my disgust and deep displeasure of this moment. I don’t want to share my life.

“Follow me,” I darkly mutter.

I hear Bella’s soft footsteps following me up the steep stairs the wooden handrail suddenly shakes from under my hand I feel the rattling of the old wood under my fingers as if it is a giant snake’s tail. I hear a pained groan. I see Bella lying on her stomach and her dull face is planted in the yellow carpet. The clumsy sloth that she is, has fallen up the stairs. I cackle in glee. Before I help her up just as the front door is opening. “Watch your footing,” I murmur.

“Thanks for the warning,” she murmurs back with an embarrassed smile taking my hand.

“It’s warm,” she whispers with wide eyes.

I roll my eyes.

“Bella are you alright?” my mother asks.

Bella shyly nods. Her face is red I am filled with pathetic sympathy and I hate it. I hate how this person is so emotional. “Come on, I will show you your room,” I tell her with a fake smile.

“Looks like it is going well,” I hear my mother say.

I hate them all except for my mother…no actually I changed my mind, she could have said no. So I highly dislike her too.

I lead Bella to the spare room. It is a simple room with wood floors, light green walls and a wooden bed with a dark green velvet coverlet and a green Persian carpet lie beside the bed on the in the corner of the room. There is a plain wooden desk in the opposite corner by the door. There is a restored crystal chandelier hanging from the stone ceiling. “The light switch is here. We updated it, well my mother did,” I ramble as I look at Bella’s boring bright brown eyes.

“This is perfect thank you,” she says with a humble smile.

“You’re welcome,” my mother says from behind me.

I take this opportunity to flee the room as my inner caged birds flaps against my caged heart. When Bella smiled like that I was reminded of Alice. The Cullens are leaving and that means that Alice is leaving too. My stomach rolls with unneeded uneasiness as I think about never seeing her golden eyes again or seeing her small smile. I can only imagine touching her cold hands as they stroke my fevered body. The way that here lithe curves felt in my arms and the feeling of her boobs nudging my back. I feel my chest thunder with a shuddering breath I fall on my bed and release a hoarse scream into my pillow. My life really is fucked up beyond any recognition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this new chapter. What do you think of the mild plot twist? I was not exactly planning for Bella to move in with Hazel it just happened. Let me know what you thought of this chapter or the story thus far.   
> Thank you for reading!   
> I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	13. Evil

It has been six months since Bella has started living with us. Six very dull months. Our house is being invaded by visitors. I groan as I sit on the red couch, today is Friday which means that the sheriff Charlie Swann is going to come over for dinner. He is not bland like Bella and not possessive like Edward he is just normal, and that worries me because I think Mr. Normal is attracted to my mom and now I want to vomit, in the nearest flower pot.

I hear the loud roar of Jacob’s Rabbit hurtle down our street and I see their silhouettes through the thin curtains of the living room.

“How do you like _Lord of the Flies_?” my mother asks.

“It lacks female power,” I say. 

“Why is there no heroin?” I curiously query. 

She simply shrugs and tilts her head, considering my question, “A lot of ‘classic literature’ does not have strong female roles. You ask a good question Hazel.”

I smile with pride and my grin slips off my face when I hear Bella’s obnoxious laugh.

“They’re back,” I mutter.

My mother pats my knee as she walks into the kitchen knowing something about her bothers Jacob’s nose.

The front door closes with a loud ‘clunk’ and I can hear Jacob’s heavy footsteps approaching. I stuff my nose further into the book silently hoping that the island is sentient and I can become the heroin of this tale as I am transported through the thin pages.

“Hey Hazel,” Jacob greets with a small wave.

I grunt a greeting with my nose stuck in the book. I can hear his tall frame sink beside me on the couch in the living room.

“Whatcha reading?” he asks.

I can feel his friendly grin invading my being like a shining rainbow.

I close the book with my most terrifying glare and stuff the cover in his proud face.

“ _The Lord of the Flies,_ ” he reads as he holds the hardcover further away from his face.

“Is it any good?” he asks.

“Depends,” I hear myself say.

“On,” he inquires with amused eyes.

“If you find a book about galavanting boys trying to kill each other on a deserted island entertainment or not,” I mutter.

“That’s what this book is about! It’s not about a fly trying to be a King in a medieval garbage land!” he splutters.

“No,” I say with a rare laugh. “I wish it was though. I want to rewrite it make it better but I know I can’t.”

“You two are idiots,” Bella says from the chair by the fireplace I have no idea how long she has been there for nor do I care.

“You wound us Bells!” Jacob theatrically retorts as he holds both hands over his heart.

I roll my eyes. The love wafting of Jacob for Bella is genuine and bright it makes my heart skip with hidden joy.

Bella rolls her eyes and walks toward the couch and sits on Jacob’s lap. “You two are idiots because _Lord of the Flies_ is so much more than a story. It is an argument about evil and that we all have evil inside of us. We just need the right environment for it to take form.

I shake my head and start to leave the room, “You wouldn’t know evil if it stared you in the face Bella,” I mutter.

“And you would?” she bites back.

“Do you know what I survived!” Bella screams at me.

“Have you stared evil in the face and survived?” she asks me in a heated whisper.

“Do you know what it is like…”

“Bella leave it alone,” Jacob pleads.

“No Jake. She is a spoiled brat who thinks that the whole world is entitled to her. She needs to hear this,” Bella replies as her dull brown eyes face a clearly uncomfortable Jacob.

“Actually I think you just need to say it. People have been whispering about me all my life Bella. I am immune to criticism and hate,” I state as tears prickle the back of my eyes.

“No one is immune to hate Hazel,” Jacob softly stares.

“You obliviously don’t know me very well, then,” I say in a steady and dignified voice while I stuff my trembling hands in my pockets. My feet are twitching to an escaping beat.

“I know you,” Bella interrupts. “You never had to stare evil in the face. You never had to survive anything because your mommy comes to your rescue, whenever it is sunny outside your mother babies you. You never had to stare evil in the face. You’re not a survivor of anything just a pathetic liar.”

I feel my eyes sting with hurt. The demon inside of me rattles the iron cage around my heart, yearning for escape. My inner caged bird is fluttering inside with agitated wingbeats. I will not show my hurt to anyone, in a heated whisper that reminds me of a breath of a dragon I say, “I am evil Bella, and I stare in my face everyday.”

“ _LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!”_ my inner demon roars. My breath trembles with each inner exclamation and I collapse on my bed as tears of hate stream down my face.

I look in my mirror and see evil’s red gaze staring back at me and still silver tears of loathing fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that wanted to be written. I am curious to hear any of your thoughts or reactions.   
> Thank you for reading,   
> I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	14. Memories

I wake up with a groan. My joints and muscles protest at the slightest movement, I feel like a puppet whose strings are being toyed with or a doll that is being torn apart, I am being plagued. Now I don’t mean like the bubonic plague like in the miserable Middle Ages but by the plague of memories that are surfacing and I am drowning in their cosmic swells.

Do I let myself drown and be taken away with the tide? I am too tired to fight. Too tired and too sore and it is not even sunny out. Oh woe is me!

Another swells visits and I feel like I am just a piece of algae in its rolling depths. _I am surrounded by sweat. I am being pursued by a creature of darkness a creature of shadow. A creature who wants and takes and all they do is give empty knowledge. Tasks that fill empty dreams and broken promises of youth. “You can do whatever and be whatever you want. Just work hard and true,” the teacher tells me._

_“Bullshit!” I yell._

_I feel a rise of fury. My limbs shake with fire. My feet kindle with sparks, “You don’t know what kind of world it is out there. What monsters are out there. You teach us math and science but YOU don’t know, how useless it all is. If a vampire is chasing me, what am I gonna do spew some algebraic question in its face. Hey Dracula what’s x=2 or some radon. You don’t know anything!”_

_“With an attitude like that, you won’t amount to anything Hazel,” the teacher states as she fills out a detention slip, my tenth one of the week. The second one I got today because I threw Romeo and Juliet out the window, at least they escaped their pathetic romance together. I personally like Macbeth it is darker and has witches._

_I feel a wind of fury burn in my lungs, “Walls are not meant for learning. The learning happens out there! In the real world. This is an institution to make robots. We are all being turned into mindless robots. We need to learn how to survive and thrive in this fucked up world and that doesn’t happen here in front of a board.”_

_“What about opportunities Hazel, career opportunities,” the teacher states._

_I roll my eyes, I am done with walls I am done being groomed I remember I started to walk out of the room and dark. I was just in darkness. That was my first blackout I guess that is what I felt like. I was floating in darkness. My radical reputation was ruined. People called me names the most memorable being ‘Leaning tower of Pisa’ or ‘Timber.’ Get it because my name is Hazel which is a name of a tree and trees fa…never mind._

_The worst thing though is I feel their cruelty and their hate for me. It is flaming darkness, like flickering black flames at my heart._

_Stupid really._

My heart is so dark my head feels muddled and sore. I sit up and rest my hands on my knees and feel the demon within licking my wounds with kind words, strong words.

“ ** _You are so strong Hazel. Let yourself feel, let yourself accept. You spoke truth that they were not ready for. Are not ready for. You were not alone on that day and you are not alone now,”_** it distantly coos.

“Yes I was. You weren’t there and if you were you didn’t do anything,” I whisper.

 ** _“Oh yes I was. I was there Hazel. I stopped you from saying more.”_** I can hear its sheepish smile in its sweet voice that sounds like a red sunset lit cloud.

“What…” I start to say with a chuckle.

“Hazel, who you are you talking to?” Bella asks as she looks at me with her boring eyes and her bland brown eyebrows furrowed.

“Myself,” I reply. “What are you doing here anyway. You didn’t knock I told you to knock!”

“I did. You didn’t answer, so I opened the door and heard you whispering. Hazel are you really alright?” Bella asks again in a softer tone and her care for me makes tears prickle at the back of my eyes.

“Yes,” I choke out. “ Just remembering.”

“Remembering what?” Bella asks with deep curiosity as she cautiously steps in my cozy room.

“Memories,” I say with a bitter smile. “Memories of school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter that wanted to be shared with a little bit of a back story to Hazel. I hope that you enjoy please let me know what you think.  
> Thank you for reading.  
> Until next time, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	15. Hello

I am just getting ready for bed, it’s not like I put much effort in the routine or anything. I just like to stare out at the direction of the meadow whose dark expanse is veiled in shadow. I have my bedroom window open. I like to stand in the dark until I can no longer feel my toes. When I do this I feel as if I am floating. Until numbness fills my being and I am being embraced by both the cold and the dark. Like death. My favourite part is where I feel my lips turn up into a smile and I run into the bed under my covers and shiver waiting for the warmth of life.

Bella has been here for a year now and the only normal thing in my life is this nighttime routine. Everything feels as if it is changing and I loathe it. This, this moment right here, is everything. I am aligned with life as I stand in the dark.

My body is shocked into apathy by a knock on the front door. My mother is not home, she is out with this guy named Laurent, he sounds like a fashion designer. I never met him and I don’t want to meet him.

I walk into the hallway and see Bella open her bedroom door, “Did you hear that?” she whispers. Her dull brown eyes remind me of a scared mouse. A mouse who is trembling with fear and will be petrified with the stillness of its quaking cells. Frozen in the primal grasp of the ancient beast that is as big as an elephant and makes one feel as small as a mouse.

“I’ll go. You stay here,” I tell her in a low voice above a whisper.

“You’re naked,” Bella states.

“Right,” I murmur with a shrug.

“Aren’t you going to change?”

“I can’t change my skin Bella. Look whoever is out there is not supposed to be there. My birthday suit will either scare them away or make them forget why they are there in the first place which will give me a few seconds to slam the door in their face,” I tell her in a flat voice.

“What if it’s someone who needs help?” Bella asks.

I roll my eyes, “Since when do you care about helping people.”

“Just put a robe on Hazel please,” Bella tells me as she tosses a yellow robe.

The knock interrupts our whispered conversation like knife through bread. I throw the cotton robe over myself and go to answer the door only to see a bouncing Alice on the front steps. Her short brown hair glistens in the dull light. Her eyes shine like golden nuggets in a dark mine.

“It’s cold,” she whispers, “Let me in.”

“How are you cold. You’re dead,” I tell her as I unconsciously open our wooden door wider.

“You haven’t changed Hazel. It has been a year and you haven’t changed. Huh, I didn’t think yellow was your colour,” Alice retorts with a smirk that makes my stomach twinge and my breath quicken with desire?

“It’s not. I wanted to answer the door naked, but Bella wouldn’t let me,” I tell her.

“Bella? She’s here!” Alice says with a smile and I swear her dead topaz eyes gleamed.

“Yeah, she’s been living here. What are you doing here?” I ask with my hands in the oddly fuzzy yellow pockets.

“I came to tell you Happy Birthday,” Alice says with a soft smile making my mouth go dry. What is wrong with me!?

“That isn’t until tomorrow,” I tell her and I can feel my inner caged bird tweet with happiness at the lightness that I feel from Alice.

“It’s midnight Hazel,” Alice says with a husky voice.

“Right, thank you for the wishes. You can go now,” I tell her as I walk back to the door. Proud of myself for slamming the door on two birds.

Wait, why isn’t she leaving? And why am I experiencing waves of regret?

“I don’t like how I left you,” Alice whispers and I know that if she could cry she would be a blubbering brook right now.

“It’s fine,” I tell her as I stare at my toes.

“It’s no…”

“Alice is that you!?” Bella says with a squeal that reminds me of a dying mouse.

I wince at the sound and ignore the envy that is twisting in my gut at the hug they share, a hug of friendship and love.

“Where’s Edward?” Bella asks, and I can feel the hope shining off her like a painful sunrise.

I sneak up the stairs and huddle under the covers for the five thousand four hundred and seventy fifth time in fifteen years. Happy Birthday to me.

 _“It’s a new beginning Hazel,”_ my inner demon whispers.

I slam the doors of darkness, of knowing, and of living as I slip away into the midnight realm of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.  
> I am interested to hear your thoughts, feelings or impressions of what you think of this chapter or the story thus far.  
> Please let me know and thanks for reading! 
> 
> Writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	16. Dream

Tonight I dream or it feels like a dream, an answer in the dark. An answer of intertwined limbs slick with desire. I sit up with a climax of light shining within. I feel my body tremble with gold. I look for Alice beside me and I run my fingers through my disheveled hair knowing it was a dream that I yearn to be real in the most secret parts of myself. I hear the footsteps on the stairs and I go to take a look.

I put on the fluffy yellow robe Bella gave me. The cheery colour reminds me of a baby chicken and its soft downy feathers that look as yellow as an egg yolk. I open my door and see my mother walk into her bedroom at the end of the dark hall. She is walking as slow as a ghost, or a phantom of the living dead.

A familiar metallic taste fills my mouth and nose. A sense of knowingness cascades over me like a golden wave. Her fierce trembles are wafting over me like tongues of flame, licking at all of her feelings in this moment and coursing to mine disguising them to play a part within me. Creating a creational bang of feelings in my being like the Big Bang that created the universe. Only I am at the centre of it all and the creative force is…never mind. 

I have only sensed this kind of intensity from my mother once before. It can only mean one thing, a means to an end. She killed.

“Who was it this time?” I ask as I walk into her dim lighted room and see her washing her bloody hands as her hungry burgundy eyes stare at the crimson swirls staining the pale porcelain basin of the sink.

“Someone, who was trying to hurt my family. I need a bag, Hazel,” she tells me in a strong voice that is trembling with expert restraint. I nod and walk into the dark kitchen to the fridge. I don’t have time to warm it up. She is too hungry for that. If Bella wakes up she is in danger.

I bring the bag and a glass. Putting them both on my mother’s wooden vanity with a marble table in the bathroom. She lunges for them with ancient primordial hunger. I cross my arms as I lean against the wall. Knowing that she is going to collapse with the ebbing of adrenaline and will need help walking to bed. My mother is more cursed then me and tears spring to my eyes like a first spring rain creating a waterfall. I quickly wipe the burning salty stains away, afraid to feel more then I do. 

I see her gulp the blood in the glass as if it is water instead of thick cold liquid life. I guess in a certain context blood can be called the water of life. She closes her eyes in ecstasy as her voice sighs out an orgasmic moan of release and satisfaction. I cannot prevent the red blood stained blush spreading on my cheeks at the intimate sound.

“Who did you murder?” I ask as I walk to support her crumpled figure that is usually refined with beauty and lead her to her ebony bed that is overlaid with cascading dark silk blue sheets.

“It doesn’t matter Hazel, not right now, what’s done is done. What has been broken cannot be mended that is the rule of the world. Death visits in this moment Hazel, let’s hear it’s haunting quiet,” my mother recites in an exhausted whisper as her hands curl into the dark blue silk pillow. Her long brown hair looks like snakes slithering in a dark pit lit by the full moon. I swear I can hear a wolf’s call. Right here, right now, she looks like a small child who is afraid of her own shadow.

I sigh and crawl in behind her. Knowing that death doesn’t like too much company. “You are just as ancient life aren’t you,” I murmur into my mother’s shaking shoulder.

“ _Life and death are twins flames of the universe. They are as old as the creations of dreams_ ,” my inner demon whispers with a lulling tune, as if it is lulling a primal lullaby that speaks to the hidden fathoms within me.

Inside I can hear my creature purr with pleasurable contentment as I sleep into dark waters that keep pulling me under, into the dreamworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> So I was feeling angsty and invited Hazel to visit.  
> This is the culmination of our meeting.  
> I know it’s short.  
> There will be more soon.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading it.  
> Please feel free to leave any comments on your thoughts and impressions. I am interested to read about what you think about the chapter or this story thus far.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	17. Unwanted Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> A short chapter that wanted to be shared.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> Mystic  
> PS please leave any comments or thoughts that you have of this chapter or this story so far

I wake up to the sound of muffled shouting and I roll the sleep out of my eyes. My heart starts to pulse with agitation and it is not my own. I am unusually calm this morning I feel my head tilt in pondering at the curious stillness inside of me. In all honesty I fear it, it is too foreign to be normal. I am more on edge this morning then ever.

I feel my feet walk down the stairs and to the kitchen where the muffled shouting is now as clear as glass my heart shatters. There is my mother standing over a defiant Bella, who is curled up on the floor staring up at my mother’s fury with bravery her brown eyes are shining with bravery like a freshly sharpened sword. I shake my head from the strange vision and walk to get some blood.

“It’s all gone,” my mother tells me in a heated whisper.

“What do you mean it’s all gone?” I ask with transparent confusion.

“It’s. All. Gone,” my mother bites out through clenched teeth and my calm insides tremble.

I nod knowing any conversation is useless. “I’ll go hunting then,” I murmur.

“Don’t Hazel don’t go anywhere,” Bella pleads from the pathetic stone floor or at least it looks more pathetic with her on it.

“I don’t understand,” I state with a confused stare and notice that there are suitcases packed in the living room and there is a blood storing container with a bright biohazard sticker on the side.

“Ummm, whose leaving?” I ask as my thumb points over my yellow robed shoulder to the pile of bags behind me.

“We are,” my mother says with her hands on her hips as she turns around to look at me. I sense that her anger has dissipated like a west coast winter storm leaving silence in its wake.

“What? For where!?” I ask perturbed.

“For Italy,” Bella says as she gets up and brushes invisible dust off her blue jeans. “Alice came early this morning. Edward needs my…our help.”

“Right,” I mutter as I walk up the stairs knowing that this is a dream because there is no way in this weirdly calm still universe I am getting on a plane; stuck in a bird inspired tin cylinder where I can feel other people’s emotions for who knows how long.

“Your bags are already packed. Bella did them for you this morning,” my mother says as her now burgundy eyes look down the floor in shame.

“This is a dream, a really weird dream,” I tell her as I walk up the stairs one slow step at a time willing myself to wake up.

“It’s not a dream Hazel. Our family is in danger!” my mother pleads.

“Since when did they become family, you left each other. Families don’t leave each other!” I can hear the tone of my voice rise in volume as I talk down to my mother.

“Our story is complicated Hazel…yes, I left, and I…” my mother’s hands tremble in her lap and her beautiful red lips tremble I almost want to stride down the stairs and give her a hug but I don’t, not this time.

“We didn’t talk about last night,” I whisper in the chilled air knowing that my mother’s ears will hear me.

“Last night doesn’t matter…we need to go!” she states with rising agitation looking up at me and I can feel odd emotions from her pride and loyalty. She killed and she is happy, no proud about it.

“You killed someone last night You’re a murderer!” I scream.

“Hazel stop it! He was a vampire who hurt Bella and was hurting other people. I scented him out and seduced him. It’s not murder when their already dead sweetheart,” my mother tells me pleading for me to understand.

“Right,” I murmur too lost for words.

“You have a gift Hazel an inherited gift, I know you can feel it, the pull, like a leash. It’s loyalty my love. We are loyal to those we love bonded to each other for eternity in a pact that is beyond time and space. A pact of death. We have to go and answer this call Hazel. Please my sapling. It will be more painful for either of us, if we don’t listen,” my mother shares with wise strength.

I succumb to her sweet words as if they are nectar and I am a bee. Her seducing skills are strong even me a mere sapling has no strength.

“Alice is here,” Bella states in her dull voice as she looks behind the sheer curtain.

“I hate adventures,” I mutter from behind my mother’s back as I follow her out the door like a duckling.

“ _But you like Alice,”_ my inner demon whispers in a sickly sweet voice and I know that I am not dreaming.


	18. A Trade in Red

My body is pulsing with exhaustion each step is an ache to my chest. It feels as if there are a thousand spiders crawling up and down my body, pinching and nipping at all of my nerves. I want to scream but I know that only a pathetic whimper will come out. I feel a cold touch tickle my hand like a passing cat’s whisker. I flinch, “Sorry,” Alice murmurs from beside me.

“What are you sorry about?” I whisper in a forced voice that feels as if its murmuring from sludge.

“That you’re so affected and that I startled you,” her trilling voice soothes making me want to puke.

I look up at the baggage corral feeling calm as the repetitive motion lulls me into a sort of sick calm as if it is hypnotizing me, “Whatever,” I say with a shrug as I look at the distance trying to locate my vintage red suitcase.

I look over at Bella tapping her foot with impatience as if the pathetic motion will make the luggage come faster. Which it…

‘A there is my bag,’ I think and I can feel my lips upturn with a ghost of a smile.

I can see my mother come from the washroom and she sighs, “Have they come yet?”

“Just about,” Bella states as she bites her bottom lip making it look even more red.

“I will be at the car rental then,” my mother informs us. I don’t look at her. I can’t. I can feel her sympathetic smile from our distance. I look down at my black shoes on the pristine light floor instead and study my blurry reflection. As if the bright lights on the waxed surface reveals my aura or something.

“Thanks Alice,” I hear Bella murmur as she rolls her navy blue suitcase.

I look over at the full baggage cart and I almost quake with laughter at the sight they are piled high with pink suitcases that are clearly Alice’s.

She looks at me with her topaz eyes glimmering with life, “What? I need to look my best. Fashion is the best weapon it can stop your enemy in their tracks, with blinding glamour or grotesque disgust which is an excellent distraction for a surprise attack.”

“Is that our weapon of choice then, feather boas,” I quip.

“No,” Alice states, “you’ll see.”

“Hmmm,” I hum, “I think I will stick with my jeans thanks. They have been dependable since the Gold Rush you know.”

“Blue jeans Hazel, I always thought leather would be more your style. You know car woman,” Alice says as she jostles my shoulder with hers as she pushes the baggage cart.

I open my mouth to retort and shut it when I see my mother approach, “We have a car it’s spot is A3 spit number 21.”

We arrive at the car and I see Bella exclaim, “A Lamborghini, really.”

“We are creatures of luxury,” my mother breathes.

I honestly have no idea how we are going to pile in all of Alice’s suitcases. My mother though seems to have a gift of some sort for finding a place for everything to fit, “ _Or everyone_ ,” my demon whispers.

“I thought you were gone,” I mutter under my breath.

“ _Not gone Hazel. Never gone, just quiet_ ,” the sweet voice states.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” I ask with a barbed whisper.

“ _For some_ ,” it replies and I can feel and hear the shrug of indifference in its voice.

“Hazel,” my mother calls, “get in the car,” she tells me with confusion painted on her face like a canvassed sunset.

“Right,” I whisper, “the car.”

We drive down small streets that show signs in a different language. I don’t know what I was expecting from Italy, but it was not this. Not this quaint world that ripples with energy from a dark past. I feel a pull, a strong pull. Happy. I feel happy here.

“So what’s are plan with the Vampire Illuminati,” I ask.

“Well, we are going to go to a hotel and then we need to wear red cloaks to blend in. These vampires are very old and they are smart. Especially Caius. We need to smart, more than that we need to be careful, they can’t find out about Bella…and you Hazel…they can’t find out about you,” my mother explains as she looks at me through the rear view mirror. I evade her loving gaze.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because they will take you away from me, my love.”

“Why’d you bring me here then?”

“Because we need your help!” Bella snaps. 

I have no reply to that. Alice tickles my hand again and I don’t have the strength to flinch.

We arrive at the hotel that is covered in a façade of brick and marble. I step out of the car, “It doesn’t smell like gelato or lasagne,” I murmur as I think out loud.

“What?” Alice asks with an endearing smile.

“I always thought Italy would smell like chocolate gelato or lasagne and it doesn’t…” I explain as I feel a blush heat my cheeks.

Alice laughs and to my tired ears it sounds like a chittering bird that makes my internal demon cover its ears with disgust.

I don’t remember a time when I have ever felt so light.

“We have to go,” my mother murmurs looking at the sky.

I wonder what she sees.

I don’t give myself time to admire the lavish hotel room that we are sharing with two bedrooms. There is a pull and it is to uncomfortable to dismiss as if even thinking of ignoring is like drinking a potent poison.

I turn to my mother in our room and I see her drape her head in a red hooded cloak.

“You need to do the same Hazel. Time is of the essence,” she states in a voice breathing haste.

“Shouldn’t Bella and I stay here?” I ask.

“No, it’s too late for that,” she states and I tremble at her cold tone.

“We don’t have a plan do we? Or you, we are just going to barge into there not knowing the consequences,” I predict with knowingness.

My mother looks up at me with a smirk, “Fortune favours the bold.” And her burgundy eyes are red.

I have no reply as I drape the long red cloak over my jeans and black t-shirt, “Looks like we don’t need your feather boas after all Alice,” I quip.

Alice turns around from talking to Bella in the living room and her face glows with light, “You look really good Hazel,” she beams.

I roll my eyes.

I feel as if we need a soundtrack or something when we arrive at Volterra it is like the Vatican except for vampires who are under ancient rules. Loyalty guides my heart. Loyalty that was not chosen but inherited.

My mother struts with strength and Alice follows our little hoard behind.

My mother opens the doors with such a dramatic air as if she is parting all of the seas of emotion.

“A Marsella,” a seductive voice purrs.

“Caius,” she nods.

“You have returned.”

“Returned no. A member of my coven is in your care and I would like to bring him back on peaceful terms.”

Caius chuckles a deep rich purring laughter, “I didn’t think I would ever hear the words vampire and peaceful in the same sentence.”

“You don’t want to fight me Caius I am hungry and strong. You couldn’t control me and fight me before so why would you want to now.”

“I always liked a good gamble.”

“Jane! Finish them,” he orders with a sneer.

I can’t, I can’t be here I feel the hatred wafting off of this vampire as if it is candle.

“STOP!” I roar.

“What about a trade you can have me for Edward Cullen,” I propose as my heart beats with truth and necessity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Please share any comments of what you thought of the chapter or the story so far. 
> 
> Until next time,   
> Mystic

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun time with words. Inspired by the red sun I saw this afternoon. If you enjoyed reading it feel free to let me know. 
> 
> I am curious to see how far this story will go. 
> 
> Following my wordy muse, 
> 
> Mystic-of-the-West


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